


Origin Story [Prologue to Red]

by orphan_account



Series: Imagine Loki Prompts-Tumblr [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, One Shot, Origin Story, Prologue to Red, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:37:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3376691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prologue to Red.<br/>Loki & OFC/Reader's first meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origin Story [Prologue to Red]

**Author's Note:**

> A back story for their love before Loki went all douchemonster.

‘Your heart will be your downfall, child’ those last words from my mother are the only thing I can think of at this moment. Really, there should be a lot more I should be thinking about, like how the fuck I am going to get myself out of this, alive. My hands are starting to sweat making my palms sticky and they’re starting to slide down the oak of the bed frame I have them pressed on. Of course today is the day I realize that not only was my mother wrong about what would be my ultimate demise, it is the day I notice my boots have no more grip on them. They, like my hands, are currently holding me up, suspending me three inches above the cold stone floor in Prince Loki’s bedroom. Ending up under a prince’s bed has never been anyone woman’s fantasy, at least not in the ‘hiding so he doesn’t murder me’ sense. I’m trying to breathe as shallow as possible, the wooden frame holding up the mattress presses harshly into my stomach every time I inhale and my calves are starting to cramp up from the strain. 

No, it wasn’t love that has led me to my death, at least not the love for another being. Nope, couldn’t have just given me something honorable to die for, like saving a child from a burning building or taking fourteen arrows to the chest to save my fellow soldiers in the blaze of battle. This is so my life, dying because I chose the wrong room and instead of running, I decided that I wanted to touch the shiny helmet. A fucking helmet that looked like it had been modeled after a satanic goat with its long curled antler things. How the hell did he walk around with that thing on his head? I could barely pick it up let alone raise it above my head and the fact that he kept his balance was a miracle in itself. Maybe that’s what he did in the castle, practice walking with a tower of books on his head. The image in my head makes a fit of laughter burst out of my throat.

“Who’s there?” the soft yet slightly panicked voice calls from my right.

Fuck, not only will it be a helmet that gets me killed it will be because I can’t control my stupid imagination. I brace my arms and legs tighter, stretching my muscles to the point where they are now burning and I clamp my mouth shut. I turn my head and watch the maid’s footsteps shuffle from left to right uncomfortably. She turns from the far side of the room and begins walking towards the bed and I hold my breath. The bag full of gold I had stolen from what I assume to be Prince Thor’s room is suddenly a hundred times heavier. She’s a few inches away from me now, I pray to anyone who is looking out for me that she is too dumb to check under the bed. Actually, if someone was looking out for me they wouldn’t have given me the attention span of a goldfish, then I wouldn’t have been distracted by a fucking helmet and I would have found my way out of this god forsaken palace. Instead, here I am, under Loki’s bed waiting for someone to peak under the comforter and find me clung to the bottom like a spider. 

“Get out” Loki’s voice is deep and rattles through my bones.

I hear the shuffling of feet and watch her tiny shoes disappear from my view and then the door slams. Fuck, oh fuck, I’m sweating profusely and trying to think of anything I could do to help this situation. Should I offer him the gold and beg for forgiveness? Or maybe strip off my clothes and yell surprise, happy belated birthday! When was his birthday again? I am a horrible Asgardian, clearly since I am stealing from the royal family. I think I saw a window to my right, maybe when he is distracted I can roll over towards it and jump. Which would also lead to my death, so pretty much I’m shit out of luck regardless of my decision-making skills, or lack thereof.

I hear the sound of fabric dropping onto the floor, I can see from his knee down at the angle my face is sitting. His green tunic is pooled on the floor by his boots and with one swift kick it’s flying towards me. My breath hitches and I try to force my body more upwards into the skeleton of the bed, thankfully the shirt stops at the foot of the bed instead of under. I exhale slowly and watch him walk treacherously slow towards the bed; each click of his heeled boot on the stone is like another nail my coffin. There’s a lump in my throat that I’m afraid to swallow and it seems to get bigger the closer he gets. He’s only a few inches away now and I can smell leather and polish mixed with baked bread. He must have just finished lunch and it’s in that moment my stomach decides it’s a good time to remind me not to skip breakfast.

He’s walking away when my stomach growls loud like a bear looking for its lost cub, I wince and he stops dead in his tracks. I can hear every movement my body is making, the blood rushing to my head, my tendons stretching to their limit to try and hold me up, my heart beating faster than it ever has. My hair that I braided then wrapped in a tight bun is falling loose, strands of hair are framing my face and the rest has fallen almost low enough to reach the floor. Well at least it wasn’t a helmet that got me killed, it was skipping breakfast and I’m not sure if that’s more embarrassing or just humiliating. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for my demise; instead I hear his footsteps getting further away from me. A soft hum rises from the other side of the room so I pop one eye open and he is nowhere in sight. It’s at that moment my limbs give up and drop me onto the floor with an echoing thump. I freeze, everything but my heart is still and I wait for him to come running and drag me out by my hair. 

It seems like hours go by before I dare to move, but judging by the sound of running water I doubt it’s longer than a minute. I slowly roll my body onto my stomach and crawl to the side, wincing every time the metal from my boots scrapes the floor. My white cotton dress is now caked in sweat, I can feel it running down my back and legs and my hair is now dragging behind me. I make it to the edge of the bed and can see a large double pained window against the wall. It’s about a ten-foot sprint from the bed to the window and the shower is still running, I can feel the steam flowing from under the door coming at me in waves. How hot does one need to shower, damn. 

I inhale through my nose and pull myself forward with my forearms, scraping my knees painfully on the floor. I’m finally out from under the bed, the window is so close and I feel overly proud of not getting murdered today. I pull myself up to my knees and pat my worn leather bag at my hip, insuring the gold I risked all this nonsense for was still there. Feeling confident and a bit richer I rise to my feet and turn to look at the bathroom door, still closed.

“What are you doing in my room?” Loki’s voice hits me like a train.

I snap my head to other side of the room where the bed meets the wall and I gulp. I can feel the color draining from my face while he sits with his ankles crossed and hands behind his head leaning against a plethora of green satin pillows. A broad grin slides across his face that sends a chill vibrating down my spine. I should have eaten a damn muffin before I left on this ill-planned plot of vengeance. 

“Have I seen you before?” he says keeping his gaze locked into mine.

I can’t think of anything to get me out of this situation, god I really need to work on my escape plans. Or maybe just not wandering into a room while attempting to escape just so I can try on an overly-large helmet because it’s shiny. Loads of things are shiny; the gold I stole was already shiny so why the hell was I so drawn to his helmet? I knew it was his room, it was like an aura radiating from the door, begging me to come in and play. Is that why those horn things are so big? To draw attention from females so that he can have his fun?

“I’m speaking to you, woman” his voice snaps me back into reality. “Do not make me repeat myself” his eyes narrow and he is suddenly on me, slamming my back into the wall with his hand gripping at my chin.

“H-h-happy birthday?” I stutter out.

The grip on my chin tightens and I can’t tell if he’s shocked or utterly annoyed. Probably both, now I feel like maybe I deserve this considering I am not witty enough to get myself out of this situation. His naked chest is pressing against me but his body feels cold and rigid, there’s nothing warm and fluffy about this prince at all. I can’t see why certain women flock to him, everyone knows Thor will likely be king so there’s got to be something Loki has going for him. Maybe he’s into that kinky sex bored housewives like, oh god why did I just think of that? They’re both attractive men too, which is odd since I have never considered Odin an attractive fellow. To be honest he looks sort of like that Midgardian myth, the fat man that delivers presents to kids. Loki’s grip softens and a loud chuckle rumbles through his chest and he is so close I feel it vibrate into me.

“Oh fuck me you‘re reading my thoughts” I whine. 

“Smart girl” He snarls, well guess he’s back to being scary again. “I remember where I’ve seen you before” he backs away from my body but keeps my chin in his grip. 

He cocks his head while his eyes roam up and down my body, freezing at the bag of gold sticking out of my small satchel. His free hand is quick to snatch the pouch and I yelp in protest. His eyebrows rise as his grip trails from my face to my neck and I can’t help but let out a pathetic squeak. He looks at the small red pouch of gold and jingles it in front of my face tauntingly. The lump in my throat is back and my legs are about to give way at any moment.

“You’re the angry little thing from earlier today. The one my father denied to listen to about the training regiment for our army. You’ve got quiet the mouth on you girl.” He’s smiling like a child who just caught their sibling doing something naughty. “Was this your revenge then? To rob us blind, you should have brought a bigger bag” he laughs and throws the pouch onto his bed behind him.

“Your father is a misogynistic ass and his training is so wrong. Don’t even get me started on that idiot he elected to map out battle plans!” I’m ranting with a hand at my throat but I guess it’s more honorable to go down fighting.

His smile fades but there is a new glint in his eye, like curiosity and amusement melded into one sparkle that’s giving my stomach a whirlwind of butterflies. Suddenly his hand is gone and I realize I’ve been struggling to breathe. I take a deep breath, drop to my knees, and stare at his boots, waiting for him to call his guards to have me arrested and jailed. Seconds turn to minutes and the minutes continue to multiply in the silence; if he wishes to drag out my death to make me squirm he is doing a very good job at it. 

I feel his icy fingertips in my hair and he yanks me upward painfully. My hands are on his wrist before I think it through but he just shakes me off and turns me towards the open window. I look down and can see the garden below me, its a few stories down so either way I sealed my fate as soon as I entered his room. He pushes me forward and the edge of the open window digs into my belly with the weight of his body leaned against me. I feel something soft around the shell of my ear followed my shallow breathing. 

“Try better next time, kitten.” he whispers and with a flash of green light I am on the ground, standing under the afternoon sun.


End file.
